A Subtle Exchange
Nastaran Zohreh, a slight human woman with long dark hair, sits on an empty crate near a particularly large plant with succulent green leaves that partially hide her from prying eyes. She scratches her neck as she flicks through a datapad, waiting for her contact to arrive. She has asked for an introduction through Tredo, and she hopes the black marketeer delivers. As she waits, the tell-tale sound of two Ithorian's in conversation breaks through the garden. The clicking, humming, somewhat buzzing sound of four mouthes between the two of them speaking their own language drones through the silence and grows a little louder. Eventually the one she is familiar with, Tredo, talks and points, near the crate mostly concealed by the large plant. The two exchange hand touches typical to Ithorian's, arm to arm, hands on biceps more than anything else. Rixt then parts company with the other, and comes nearer the plant, leaving it to conceil her, or act as a veil if she wishes. In the common tongue he calls out to her. "My friend says you wanted to meet me ...," two mouthes, mostly in unison as he says that, he concludes with only his left mouth for some clarity, "I am Rixt." The introduction there, Tredo may be returning to tend garden and make sure this introduction is not interrupted. The human woman pushes her hands on her knees and stands politely to meet the new contact. She nods respectfully. "I am Nastaran Zohreh," she introduces herself and gestures to the other crate beside her. "Sit, if you'd like while we discuss...?" she says and sits back down. The woman reaches behind the crate and pulls out a bottle of a brand of liquor that's popular on Ithor. "I've heard you're a well-connected sentient, Rixt," she says amiably as she shakes the bottle from side to side. "Drink?" Lowering his larger head, meeting her nod in kind even. "It is good to meet you Nastaran Zohreh," he says, committing name and face to memory, a slight play of the words sounding alternately in each of his mouthes, giving her name an echoe between the two. "Yes, I would be glad to sit with you." Moving to claim a sit with her as she fetches that bottle of liquor, his eyestalks turn, giving light he recognizes it ready enough. "Ah, I have not had this in a while," him not being on Ithor itself, perhaps a little longing in his voice, if she knows Ithorian's well enough. "You have heard right, I am connected ... and if I am not, I make it my business to become connected." The human smiles tightly to herself, her friendly gesture has been noticed. She puts the Ithorian liquor down and turns to reach behind her and pulls out two small glasses, and another bottle, this time filled with amber-coloured Corellian whisky. She puts them down on the floor in front of her and picks up the Ithorian liquid. Unscrewing the cap, she says, "That's good, because my capt, and my crew, we like to be connected too. Helps us ply our trade," she pours out a good glug of the Ithorian liquor and holds the glass out to Rixt. Watching her, the stalk focuses his yes to hers, respectful, meeting her gestures in kind. Rixt watches the glasses come out and the other bottle. She came prepared, the muscles on the front of his stalk turn a little, pleased that she made this effort alone. The little things noticed by the Ithorian. He takes the glass, tilts it in a circular motion, as if stirring it, airing it, letting the flavor release a little. "You know the trade a ply, and simply saying that churns at my curiousities," double mouthed, left mouth slightly behind the right mouth in timing of the words, but a push to leave it understandle for her. "Color me impressed, Nastaran Zohreh. Few know who I am until I've gained an advantage, my surprise gives credit to you, I like this." As if the trading of info is more a game of some sort, not something he sets out to do as some spy or double agent of some sort. "You are here for yourself, or your crew?" To meet with him. Nastaran screws the lid back on the Ithorian liquod and puts the bottle down. She turns her attention to the other bottle. She picks it up, unscrews the cap and pours herself a neat measure of the whisky. Putting the bottle down, she straightens and holds the glass up in a toast. "I'm here for my crew and on a personal matter. I take pride in doing business on an equal footing, infochant," she says. "Treat people well, and they will treat you well," she jerks her chin in the direction that Tredo went. "Case in point," she says and turns back to Rixt. "My crew and I are in the business of relieving spacegoers of their belongings, by force if needs be." She tells him. "For that to work, I need good sources of information, so I'll say it up front - if you hear of anything and let us know we'll cut you in on the spoils. If you can act as a fence, well, we'll be even happier." His glass remains in hand, untouched even as she pours her own, perhaps expecting or at least waiting for her to have one ready as well. Rixt lifts his glass up to match that toast. "To pride, and equal footing," he returns to that toast, taking a drink as she finishes out what she means to say. Complete understanding of the nature of her business reads readily on his face, seeing no wrong in them doing what they do. Either taking by pirates, or taxed between the numerous galactic governments and the ongoing conflicts of the galaxy, someone has to do it, at least her kind is honest in thier intentions. Taking it for themslves, not some taxation to better serve said spacegoers that never is really used to better serve them. "I'm sure we can work out something to help liquid your inventories towards more workable capital for your crew and yourself. I'll gladly take minimal cut on spoils when I can help. I would only ask to act as a fence in the case of certain rarities and exotics, asking that in favor of quick turn around, that better profit margins be sought is all." He looks to her, taking again from his drink. Letting her decide if his slight counter to what she proposed seems like something she had in mind. Nastaran swirls the liquid around in the small glass and then takes a sip. She savours the liquid, her jaw moving slightly as she rolls it around her mouth. Then she swallows and nods softly. "If we pick any particular items, I will keep you informed. If you decide you think someone you know needs relieving of something they have, you keep us informed." She smiles. "Rixt, I hope this will be a profitable relationship for both of us." "I just might have some in mind," returns Rixt, as she ponders some in need of releiving. "My only question would be how often you ply your generous trade near the lanes in the vicinity of Tatooine?" Already sounds like a workable relationship, this is a little extra he is throwing out there now. WIth his drink, occasional sips, Rixt alternates between mouthes, give each throat a sampling of the fine Ithorian liqour she's managed to bring to this offering. "I do think this will be profitable, one thing I always take serious is my business, and it is only good of both parties are satisfied." Nastaran raises her head to look at the transparisteel dome visible through the thick, green leaves of the plants. She takes a deep breath of the damp, fresh air. "Frequently, as it happens. I take it you have a target in mind?" "There is a target in mind," returns Rixt, his eyes still more on her as she gazes up at the dome overhead. Lifting his glass for another drink, drinking left mouth and throat even as his right continues to talk more directly to her. "I will need to return planet side there, see where things stand. But, there is something that is mine, I mean to take it back. A certain delay along one of the lanes could assure the transition back to me proceeds more soothly. Without involving others on the surface itself." A grin from the mouth closest, "I prefer a certain independence in that regard." "I think we can do that, provided you give us enough information about what we're facing." Nastaran drains her glass. "I have to get going soon, Rixt, so let's finish our conversation later." Nastaran gathers up the bottle of whisky and her glass and stands. "Keep your bottle, a gift," she says with a grin and turns to go. Just as she is about to step through the leaves and out of sight, her back straightens and she looks over her shoulder at the Ithorian. She narrows her eyes. "One final thing, I said I needed your help on a personal matter. I met with a man yesterday, and I need to find out his full name and who he works for. I think it's Black Sun, but he has this air that makes me doubt it. Too arrogant, if that is possible," she says with a shrug. "Find the information I want without letting him know, or anyone else, and I'll pay you handsomely." "I will be on planet for a few days at least," returns Rixt, for her benefit, and she knows where to find him, no other contact details necessary for the moment. "We can finish when we both have time." He picks up the bottle in thanks, lifting it in a sign of appreciation. He watches as she moves through the leaves, catching her pause and look at him through those green fronds, his head tilts to the left side a moment. "Ahhh, yes, Black Sun. Now this is an interesting challenge." Worthy of him even, again that game, less some capital enterprise. "I will accept the challenge, once I have the information we can discuss payment. Do what you must, when next we meet we can talk more of this curious man you met." Nastaran sighs and looks away and back at the Ithorian. "You can get started now," she says, suddenly impatient. "I have a first name, I'm not sure if it's fake or not - Elias. No second name. He is a human adult male, grey eyes, bald, scarred, with cybernetic implants on his neck. He wears silk gloves, and at least one of his hands is cybernetic." She frowns and raises her hands, palms up, as if she's giving up. "He carries himself stiffly, like he's ex-military." With that the human woman pushes through the leaves and is gone, only the swishing green fronds and bottle of Ithorian liquor a remnant of her presence. You are standing in a large lush garden behind Tredo's Botanicals. This courtyard however is enclosed by a transparisteel dome over ten meters high. The grounds are extremely well kept and a wide dirt path leads to various corners of the yard. Rare and exotic plants grow in copious amounts here with tall shrubs or trees completely blocking anyone outside from viewing the gardens. At the far north end of the yard a small field, barren of any living plants holds numerous crates, cages and other goods. Category:Logs